Love Bug (18 page)

-42-

The Emo camps fell beneath the heavy booted feet of the ERC troops. Eldritch watched with as much joy as his Em-Pak allowed as an ERC trooper smashed the butt of his rifle into the face of a fleeing Emo. Another soldier held down a man while a second soldier repeated
ly stabbed him in the stomach. The man screamed. Eldritch grinned for a fraction of a second before his Em-Pak chirped loudly. Sometimes, just sometimes, Eldritch mused, he would like to turn his Em-Pak off and enjoy the satisfaction of a job well done. His ERC troops, led by an obedient Captain Ortiz, had left four Emo camps as little more than smoldering piles of ash and bone. These images were exclusively for Eldritch’s enjoyment, sent through a secure line, direct to his computer. The images released to the citizens were far more inflammatory, showing carefully edited scenes of ERC soldiers bravely battling Emo terrorists and monstrous Reds.

The Reds presented a slightly more irksome problem than the Emos. The Reds were moving, never staying in one area and this worried Eldritch and Ortiz. In the
past, the Reds appeared to be somewhat territorial. They stayed within certain hunting grounds, but now there was large-scale movement of huge numbers of Reds. Ortiz had speculated that they were regrouping and perhaps joining together for some sort of organized attack, but Eldritch had dismissed the idea as idiotic. The Reds were incapable of coherent thought, let alone planning something of that magnitude.

“Sir?” Ortiz’s voice called through the speakers of Eldritch’s computer. “We’re approaching the signal now, Mr. Eldritch. We should have contact within the minute.”

Eldritch ordered Ortiz and his troops to track down the SOS signal being transmitted by the emergency radio linked to his family’s limo. Of course, that had been after a few successful battles that could be fed to the slavering masses. Eldritch had to think of the people before himself, he was of course, a public servant. Besides, images of a rescue attempt would only serve to undermine the progress he had made enraging the masses. Allowing those flames to be cooled by whatever was at the end of that radio signal was foolish. If his wife or children were still alive, well that was acceptable, and surely could be spun into some sort of support for his cause. Furthermore, whoever had sent that signal had clearly survived this long, so what harm would a few more days do?

“Approach with caution
, Captain,” Eldritch ordered. He was beaming a live feed of the rescue through all media outlets accessible by citizens. An ERC reporter rode alongside Ortiz’s troops to provide images and commentary.

“We’re closing in
, Mr. Eldritch,” Ortiz reported. “There appears to be numerous heat signatures, possibly an Emo camp or group of Reds. Should we begin the live feed?”

“Yes,” Eldritch commanded. “Make sure this goes smoothly
, Captain.”

“Understood
, sir,” Ortiz answered. “Beginning the feed now.”

Eldritch pressed the button to turn on the large screen that hung on his wall. Dark woods rushed past the windows of Ortiz’s vehicle. The ERC reporter allowed a few more seconds of footage before beginning her commentary.

“We wait with bated breath,” the reporter began, “as we approach the signal being transmitted from the wreck that possibly claimed the lives of Assemblyman Eldritch’s family. Surely, this will be a great moment for Assemblyman Eldritch and for all citizens, really. The brave ERC soldiers, led by Captain Ortiz, will either rescue a stranded member of the Eldritch family or punish those responsible for the attack that claimed their lives. We’re closing in now.”

The camera turned back to film through the windshield of Ortiz’s vehicle. Bra
nches scraped and slapped across the glass, obscuring the view. Suddenly, the woods broke and the vehicle rumbled into a large clearing.

Countless numbers of cows turned to stare at Ortiz’s vehicle with oversized glassy eyes. A few loud moos could be heard over the throaty diesel roar of the vehicle’s engine.

“Cut the feed!” Eldritch screamed. “Cut the feed right now, Captain!”

The last image transmitted was that of Ortiz’s large,
black-gloved hand covering the camera lens and pulling it down.

“Damn it! How the hell is that possible! Who is transmitting that signal?” Eldritch shouted at an empty office. His Em-Pak began desperately beeping, trying to control his anger. The entire rescue
mission built up for days and fed to the idiotic masses, had been a failure, nothing more than some feral herd of cattle.

“Sir?” Ortiz’s voice, tinny and electronic, rattled from the small computer speakers. “Orders on how to proceed
, Mr. Eldritch?”

“Return
, Captain,” Eldritch snapped. “But find something to kill on the way back and make it look good, Ortiz. I don’t care how many men you need to order to walk into Emo bullets or Red jaws, just give me something to make the memory of this disaster go away!”

“Understood sir,” Ortiz answered.

-43-

“The Red camp is on the other side of this rise,” Samuel said as he looked at his wrist screen.  He, Cora
, and Xander had walked most of the night and morning to get to the camp as soon as possible. “We need to wait until dusk before we make our move.”

“Dusk?” Cora questioned, her voice desperate and raw. “How can we wait that long? Remmy might be dead by then.”

“We can’t do anything in the broad daylight, Cora,” Samuel answered. “We’d be seen and killed. Staying hidden is the only way to tip the odds in our favor, even if it’s just a little bit.”

“But
, Samuel,” Cora began to protest.

“Waiting for dusk is best,” Samuel said firmly. He paused to look down at the screen strapped to his wrist. Pressing a few
buttons, he changed the image. This screen showed white dots moving slowly across the screen, but the background looked completely different. “Excellent,” Samuel grinned. “Yes, dusk will give us the advantage we need.”

“What is that?” Xander demanded. “What’s on that screen?”

“Satellites,” Samuel responded, “ERC military satellites to be exact.”

“What the hell are you going to do with an ERC military satellite?” Xander snapped.

“That you’ll have to wait for dusk to see, my grandson,” Samuel smiled.

“Don’t call me that!” Xander growled. “I may have been
related to you at one point, but my grandfather is dead.”

“Suit yourself,” Samuel shrugged, appearing unfazed by Xander’s hurtful words. Samuel knew that Xander was just trying to get a reaction,
and start an argument, but he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction, no matter how painful his words were.

“I’m going to rest over here,” Xander muttered as he walked towards a shady copse of trees. “I’m kind of tired since
someone had me walking all night.”

Cora sneered at Xander, but was happy to have him go away for a while.

“Oh, Xander, one thing before you go to have a nap,” Samuel grinned, his eyes bright with playful mischief.

“What?” Xander grunted.

“That radio transmitter in your sock?” Samuel pointed to Xander’s right leg. “Can I have it please?”

Cora felt a sense of deep satisfaction as she watched the color drain from her brother’s face. She had no idea that Xander was carrying a radio,
and was terrified to think about what he could have possibly done with it, but was relieved to hear that Samuel had known about it all along.

“What?” Xander gasped. His Em-Pak began beeping, barely a pause in between the tinny chimes. “How? How’d you…I don’t…what? How? How the hell did you know?”

Samuel walked over and snatched the radio out of Xander’s sock before he had a chance to smash it.

“Come now
, Xander,” Samuel smiled. “Whether or not you want to acknowledge that I’m your grandfather doesn’t change the fact that I designed the majority of the ERC’s technology, including the emergency radio transmitters in every ERC vehicle. And of course, you being my grandson, I assumed that you would find some opportunity to sneak back and retrieve it from the wreck. After all, you are an Eldritch, my boy.”

“But I activated that…” Xander started say.

“Two days ago,” Samuel cut in, completing his grandson’s thought. “Yes, I was aware of that. The signal showed up on the screen. Tracking ERC signals is one of the best ways to avoid the ERC. Simply, common sense.”

“But the ERC is coming for me,” Xander said weakly. “I’m sure that they are. Father must have sent someone days ago.”

“Oh, that he did,” Samuel grinned, “but they won’t find you. Not when I rerouted the SOS signal through seven different satellites and changed the coordinates. If my calculations are correct, which I’m guessing they were, then your ERC rescue team recovered something more bovine than boy.”

“You bastard,” Xander seethed. His Em-Pak chirped, erasing the look of rage that simmered in his eyes, but he still glared at Samuel. “Where did you send them?”

“To a cattle field,” Samuel grinned. “Knowing your father, my son, I figured that he would make some sort of spectacle out of the rescue, trying to use it for political purposes, so I figured he needed a little bit of humbling.”

“Bastard,” Xander spat. “Now they’ll never find me.”

“On the contrary,” Samuel shook his head. “The ERC will track this signal once again tonight. In fact, it will lead them directly here.”

“What?” Cora gasped. “
Samuel, that’s suicide. We can’t call the ERC officers down on ourselves. How is that going to help Remmy?”

“We’re not calling them down on us,” Samuel corrected Cora, “
We’re calling them down on the Reds. We’ll be gone with Remmy before then, but I figure that between the ERC and what I plan to do with the satellites, the Reds will have more to worry about than an escaped prisoner.”

Cora couldn’t help but smile. Her grandfather was a genius. Success felt real,
and almost possible, thanks to Samuel.

“And Xander,” Samuel added, “if you want to hide here and then reveal yourself to the
ERC, you may. The choice is yours, but returning with us means that I will have to remove your Em-Pak. As I said before, I won’t make that choice for you nor will I prevent you from returning to your father if you feel that is the best decision. But please consider your choice carefully, Xander. There is so much good we could accomplish. I can see my spark in you, my grandson. The world has so much to offer you once your Em-Pak is gone. Please just think about it.”

“Offer me once my Em-Pak is gone?” Xander repeated. “So much, huh? Like pain or death or possibly infection? Are those the things you’re offering me
, Samuel? Gee, what a gift to give your grandson. I think I’ll pass.”

“Fine,” Cora snapped. “You made your choice. Now shut up and go take a nap!”

“Xander,” Samuel called as his grandson walked away, “you need to think about what that life offers you. People need to be free to feel and choose as they see fit, even if it puts them at risk. It’s no different than how life was before the virus and still humanity survived. But Em-Paks are wrong, Xander. They rob us of the very things that make us human. Please consider staying with us, your family. The ERC is wrong, always has been. Living with no emotions is not living at all. I won’t allow that to continue. I can’t allow the ERC to continue.”

Samuel’s face was firm and grim, but his eyes were sad. His words were not meant as a threat, rather a plea for his grandson to choose a different life, a full one.
Nevertheless, Samuel would never force this upon Xander. He had already seen what forcing decisions upon people led to and that mistake was one that he never wanted to make again.

“I know who my family is,” Xander snapped as he disappeared into the inky shadows beneath the trees.

“I’m sorry, Samuel,” Cora said softly, her hand on her grandfather’s shoulder.

“Me too
, Cora. Me too,” Samuel whispered as tears welled in the corners of his eyes. “But he has to choose for himself. Xander has to be free to decide his own fate, even if it is the wrong one.”

-44
-

“Be silent!” Hatch bellowed from atop one of the rusted hulking school
buses. She was smaller than many of the other Reds, especially the men, but radiated an unspoken threat of violence that couldn’t be matched by the others. Jessica told Remmy that Hatch was one of the first Reds to make it through the first phase of infection and that while she looked thin; Hatch was a vicious fighter who had built her kingdom upon the bones and blood of her enemies.

Remmy stood at one end of the arena
, an axe loosely held in one hand. Dented, abandoned cars were scattered throughout the ring, stained with both blood and rust. Across the arena, Remmy could see Tam, his shoulders heaving and an axe clenched in one of his hammy fists. Remmy hoped that what Jessica told him was true.

“
Tam, you have chosen to challenge this boy, Remmy,” Hatch boomed over the arena. All other Reds sat silent as Hatch spoke. “You seek revenge for the injury dealt to you by Remmy during the raid. That is your right. Those are the rules.”

“Damn
right, they are!” Tam screamed, his eyes wide and swimming with insanity.
Hatch glared at Tam, obviously angered by his interruption. Remmy could almost see the hatred that existed between the two. “The rules also state that in challenging another, you have put your position at risk. Should this boy win, he will take your place and all that goes along with it.”

“I know the damn rules
, Hatch!” Tam sneered.

“Then you must also be aware of the fact that should you
lose, you will be eaten,” Hatch smiled, her pointed teeth shining in the dying rays of a setting sun.

“That’s never been a rule,” Tam growled
, “what are you talking about?”

“You saw fit to challenge this boy in the arena,” Hatch grinned. “Death in the arena means food on the plate. That is also a rule
, Tam. You knew that.”

“That’s a rule for humans, not Reds!” Tam shouted. “No Red has ever been eaten for losing a challenge.”

“Challenges aren’t usually fought in the arena either,” Hatch glared, “but that was your choice, Tam, so the rules state that the loser will be food. Whoever dies, or can no longer fight, will be made ready for the table.”

“Whatever,” Tam snapped
, “I’m not going to lose!” He swung the axe in front of him imagining its blade peeling Remmy’s flesh.

“Remmy,” Hatch shouted, “win and Tam’s position and property
are yours.” Hatch motioned towards Jessica who sat beside her. “Fight well.” Hatch waved her hand before settling back into her chair.

Before Remmy had completely turned his
head, Tam was already halfway across the arena. Nothing stood between him and Tam aside from the rusted shell of a small car, half buried in the hard packed dirt.

“Time to die!” Tam screamed as he launched himself from the top of the wrecked car. The rusted roof buckled under his weight and force.

Remmy waited, as if frozen in place by fear, as Tam rocketed towards him like a missile. Tam pulled back his axe, preparing to bury it in the center of Remmy’s skull.

The surrounding Reds screamed with excitement and jeers. They wanted blood, more importantly they wanted food, but not before a show. Was the boy really just going to give up and choose to die quickly? Hatch and Jessica remained silent, watching with
interests that were fanned by the flames of wants far deeper than those of the other Reds. They needed Tam to die. If he won there was no stopping him and he’d come for Hatch next. Hatch didn’t fear a fight with Tam, but knew the cost of winning would most likely leave her open for another challenger to claim victory. No, this way was smarter and safer.

Moments,
before Tam brought his axe down, Remmy shifted his weight and shot out to the left. Tam continued forward, as if completely unaware of Remmy’s movement. The blade of Tam’s axe
thunked
loudly as it chewed into the hard ground where Remmy had only seconds ago stood.

Tam grunted loudly and bared his teeth as he wrenched the axe from the ground.
In spite of the danger, Remmy smiled. Jessica had told him the truth.

Earlier,
while Remmy waited for what he was sure would be his death, he had begun to wonder why Hatch would allow him a rest. Why hold off on the inevitable? Remmy figured that it had something to do with ‘the rules’ or simply a dramatic pause to heighten the Reds’ enjoyment of the spectacle. But Jessica told Remmy of Hatch’s true motivation. It had little to do with entertainment or rules.

Years ago, while Tam was going through the first phase of the
infection and still mad, he rushed a small squad of ERC soldiers. Somehow, Tam managed to tear apart the soldiers with nothing more than his bare hands and teeth, but not before a soldier detonated a flash grenade beside Tam’s face. The resulting blast had nearly blinded Tam in his left eye and rendered it almost useless in the dusky hours bridging night and day.

Hatch
delayed the arena battle under the pretense of giving Remmy a rest, but what she really wanted was Tam with no depth perception and only one good eye. Staying on the left was Remmy’s only chance of survival. But blind eye or not, Tam was still deadly.

The head of Tam’s axe sailed past Remmy’s face, the shrill whistle of the blade filling his ears
as it sliced through the air. Avoiding the attacks was not going to be enough. Eventually, Tam would get lucky or Remmy would get tired. Remmy was going to have to fight, but he couldn’t allow himself to become enraged. He couldn’t allow the virus in.

The next attack went wide. Remmy figured that Tam’s bad eye must be struggling with the dying light an
d murky depths created in the between hours of day and night. If he had any chance of winning, this was it.

As Tam closed in for another attack
, Remmy backpedaled towards one of the wrecked cars. Timing was everything. A moment’s hesitation would mean a slow painful death. He placed his back against its rusted skeleton and waited for Tam’s swing.

Remmy ducked and rolled away from the attack, smiling slightly as he heard the screech of metal against metal. Tam had succeeded only in getting his axe stuck.

“I don’t need that thing,” Tam snarled as he gnashed his rows of pointed teeth and left the axe buried in the roof of the car. “This way will be much more fun!” He lunged forward, his pointed teeth bared and ready to tear flesh, but Tam’s movements were clumsy and telegraphed, the product of arrogance and an underestimation of his challenger. Remmy again dropped to the left, avoiding Tam, but not before bringing the flat head of the axe crashing against Tam’s knee. A sickening
crunch
filled the arena, but Tam remained standing, balancing on his one good leg. The leg Remmy smashed dangled, hanging at an unnatural angle and completely useless from the knee down.

“This isn’t over!” Tam screeched, his words an equal mix of agony and rage. His knee was b
roken, the leg useless, but Tam refused to give in.

“We’re done! You can’t fight anymore!” Remmy growled, his shoulders heaving. He could feel anger spreading through his body, its toxic tendrils twisting through his innards and soul. Remmy’s vision began to narrow to a pinpoint that showed nothing besides Tam. Red radiated like a bloody aura on the edges of his vision.

CORA!
Remmy screamed in his own head.
Remember Cora!
Thoughts of Cora flooded Remmy’s mind, leaving no place for anger and rage to take root. He had to hold on for her, he needed to see her again. She was worth fighting for, but not in the way that Jessica and the Reds wanted him to fight. Remmy refused to allow anger to overwhelm him. He slowed his breathing – in through his nose, out through his mouth. Again and again. Steady and slow. Deep breaths, thoughts of the fields, blue skies and the warmth of the sun began to force the anger from Remmy’s body. There was still too much to live for, too much to enjoy. The electric sensation that Remmy felt when his lips touched Cora’s shot through his body – the memory and feeling, one in the same.

“I’m done,” Remmy announced
to the crowd, the axe hanging at his side.

“Finish it!” Hatch demanded from the side of the arena. “The rules must be followed!”

“He can’t fight anymore,” Remmy shouted back. “He can barely stand! The fight’s over.”

“It has to end!” Hatch snapped. “It will end! You had better decide how
it does, right now!”

A low growl rumbled behind Remmy’s back.

“Remmy! Look out!” Jessica screamed. Hatch spun, slapping Jessica and knocking her out of her chair.

“Be silent!” Hatch hissed, but Jessica’s eyes were fixed on the center of the arena.

Remmy turned in time to see Tam launch himself forward off his one good leg. He still had enough strength in that one leg to propel himself across the distance between him and Remmy.

The axe moved of its own volition. There would never be a memory of making the decision to swing the weapon. It simply moved. Remmy’s reflexes took over, swinging the flat, hammer-like edge towards Tam’s face. Tam, with no weapon of his own, led the attack with his
teeth.

Tam’s teeth were vicious, strong and dangerous,
capable of shredding flesh and crushing bones, but they were no match for hardened steel. White, fragmented bits, tinged in red burst from the sides of Tam’s mouth. His eyes went wide with shock and pain. A spray of blood followed as Remmy’s swing drove deeper into Tam’s mouth. The back corners of Tam’s lips tore in jagged lines, giving him a permanent, crooked smile that spoke of nothing humorous. Remmy pulled the axe free. Tam collapsed to the ground. A disgusting gurgling mew rattled in Tam’s throat as he choked on his own blood and teeth. Tam’s teeth would eventually grow back, but his lower jaw hung unhinged and at a sickening angle. The fight was over.

“Well done!” Hatch applauded. “Now do what is right and kill him. The rules demand it!”

“No,” Remmy said firmly. The bloodied axe fell to the ground. “I did what I had to survive, but I won’t kill Tam. I won’t become one of you. I don’t care about your stupid, made up rules!”

“Do you hear that? The foo
d doesn’t want to fight anymore. It doesn’t want to follow the rules,” Hatch grinned. She had already gotten what she wanted. Tam was done, as good as dead and no longer a threat to her position. If Remmy no longer wanted to play nicely, well then, he could most assuredly serve another purpose.

The other Reds rose from their positions on the edges of the arena.

“If the food doesn’t want to follow the rules,” Hatch continued, “then you don’t have to either, my friends. Dinner will have two courses tonight! Eat and be full!”

Hatch’s words sent a jolt of electricity through the arena. The other Reds were on their feet, teeth bared and mouths open.
Remmy watched as they dropped over the sides of the rusted school buses. He had beaten Tam, but was going to die anyway.

“Shuupid,” Tam gurgled from the ground. He turned his head and vomited blood
and teeth into the dirt. “Shuupid youman.” A sickening laugh gurgled deep within Tam’s throat, small red bubbles foaming from his broken mouth.

Hatch smiled, the situation was playing out better than she had expected. Not only was Tam out of the way, she also was feeding her people. As soon as the other Reds
arrived, word of Hatch’s actions would spread like wild fire and her position would be secure. The Reds would be united under her leadership and rule.

The satisfaction that Hatch felt left her blind to the fact that Jessica slowly crept up behind her. Hatch had been good to Jessica, had kept her safe from Tam, but Tam was gone now. It was a shame about Remmy though, he would have made a good Red, but some things
just couldn’t be helped.

What could be helped was Jessica’s position and status. Hatch barely had time to utter a syllable of surprise before Jessica’s jaws closed around the sides of her neck. With one strong
pull, Jessica tore free a large, wet chunk of Hatch’s neck. Hatch’s words burbled and frothed in foamy red bubbles as Jessica chewed slowly, a toothy smile of deep satisfaction stretched across her young blood-spattered face.

Hatch stumbled across the roof of the bus. Jessica lunged forward and pulled Hatch’s sword free from its scabbard. With one swift
swing, Jessica freed Hatch’s head from her body.

Blood streamed over the sides of the bus. Hatch’s body lay tangled at Jessica’s feet, bleeding and motionless. Jessica glared at the other Reds.

“Stop!” she screamed. “Stop right now!”

The Reds hesitated, stumbled a few steps forward. They were prepared for a feeding frenzy, ready to shred this human boy and the weakling, Tam. Those were the rules, but something in Jessica’s voice made
them stop. Slowly, all eyes turned towards the girl, her neck and face slick with the blood of their former leader.

“Hatch i
s dead!” Jessica boomed. “I’ve killed her. You’ll all listen to me or die.” Jessica pointed towards the Reds with the sword, Hatch’s blood still dripping from the blade.

Some of the Reds mumbled dissent, but the look in Jessica’s eyes silenced them. She looked feral and dangerous, even more so than the other Reds
, even more so than Hatch. She had claimed her spot. Those were the rules. That was her right.